


"I hate you, you force-numb son of a Bantha"

by Bella Roido (Symolyn)



Series: Love is never easy: The story of Theron and Bella [1]
Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Arguing, Awkward Flirting, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Fights, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Romance, True Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:34:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21662236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Symolyn/pseuds/Bella%20Roido
Summary: Theron Shan's relationship with the passionate Smuggler Outlander Bella'Roido after she woke up from carbonite would be a lot smoother if they could just stop arguing for a minute.
Relationships: The Outlander/Theron Shan, Theron Shan & Female Smuggler, Theron Shan & Original Female Character(s), Theron Shan & Smuggler, Theron Shan/Female Smuggler, Theron Shan/Original Character(s), Theron Shan/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Love is never easy: The story of Theron and Bella [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1561678
Kudos: 13





	1. Practically nothing

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to this new works where I will explore Theron's and Bella's tumultuous relationship. Hope you enjoy!

Mercilessly, the loud beep of an incoming message on his implant woke him up. Theron groaned, trying to make sense of where he was, before he quickly realized he was in his own apartment back on Coruscant. He was away on jobs off-world so often, his own apartment felt less like home than the rundown base on Rishi had.

He opened his eyes and blinked to allow the message to pop up before his eyes. There were only a handful of people who were on his ‘sound notifications on while he’s asleep’-list. One of those people was also on his ‘please, please, please, call me’-list, although any self-respecting man would never admit to having a list such as that.

So when the notification popped up and revealed the name he had been moaning in his sleep – another thing he would never admit to – Theron immediately sat up straight in bed and scrambled to get a holopad from the nightstand. He had the good sense to run a hand through his tousled hair, but probably still looked as if he just woke up, because he did. With a finger that trembled slightly, he pressed the touch pad to open the call.

The holo revealed the figure of the smuggler that had occupied his dreams so intensely lately. She was wearing a soft leather pilot hat that covered the top part of her striped lekku, but she was not wearing her usual mouth mask, so Theron could admire the shape of her lips and jaw, so sharply defined in the blue-colored holo. The light frames did not allow her bright pale red skin color to show, but Theron had seen enough of her in the last few months to picture it exactly in his mind. As his eyes devoured the Twi’lek in front of him, his breath chocked when he saw hat she was wearing below her neck.

_Practically nothing._

A light-colored bandeau top covered her fully shaped breasts, but her shoulders were bare and her belly mercilessly exposed. The round belly button seemed to stare at him and Theron stared back, awkwardly wondering if she would be able to trace the line of his vision through the holo. Underneath the skimpy top she was wearing tight leather pants, set with lighter patches on the inside of her thighs, showing off her slender figure and broad hips perfectly.

“B-Bella Roido,” he said, too much in shock to give himself the cool, charming airs he liked to adopt around her.

“Shan!” she said, using his last name as she so often did. Her voice sounded slightly metallic over the holo, adding to the already sharp sound.

The smooth forehead underneath the hat wrinkled slightly in a frown. “Did you just wake up?”

“It’s the middle of the night,” he responded, self-consciously running another hand through his dark hair.

“Is it? What time are you on?”

“Coruscant, of course. Where are you?” he asked, not just to make conversation, but out of genuine curiosity. He hadn’t seen the woman regularly since their mission on Ziost had ended –badly. One time she had surprised him when she was passing Coruscant and one time they had met accidentally when Theron was meeting a contact off-world. Both times had been steamy encounters that made Theron’s belly tingle just thinking about it. Other than that, they had holo-called a few times but mostly kept to their own business.

Between their busy schedules, different time zones and bad connections (Bella didn’t usually do business on planets with good connection facilities) it was difficult to keep in touch. Maybe if he had asked her to be exclusive with him, he would have had more confidence to call her. But he had neglected to have that conversation. So all he could claim was a few hot encounters, a couple of kisses, and some professional history; Hardly enough to put a label on whatever it was they were having together. Knowing the man-hunter that she was, she probably slept with someone else in the meantime. Last time they spoke, she was calling him to meet up, but he was worlds away and on an important information gathering mission. He had to disappoint her, and he hadn’t had the courage to call her back after that.

“I’m in _Wild_ Space,” Bella said, with emphases on the ‘wild’, which she pronounced seductively. Theron shifted uncomfortably, his eyes still fixed on the naked belly.

“Whu- what are you doing there?”

“Meeting up with a certain Darth,” Bella replied in the robotic holo-voice. “Unlike some, he _does_ call me.”

Theron’s tired mind raced quickly. She was expecting him to call? Why did she never tell him she expected him to call? And more importantly, why would she meet Darth Marr wearing _that_. She was probably still going to change, right? _Right?_

“You- I,” he stammered.

“I’m kidding, Theron,” she broke him off, a mischievous grin on her face. Bella seemed to enjoy watching him struggle to get through this unexpected call. Seeing her taunt him gave Theron tingles in places he was happy were covered by the duvet. “He has a tip on the Emperor. Gotta check it out.”

“Would join you if I could,” Theron replied, happy the conversation was going back to work-related things that he could talk about without trouble. “Be careful, okay?”

“You know me, I never am,” Bella replied cheekily. She gave him a little wink, which drew Theron’s eyes up from her belly button to her petite face, drowning in her eyes which he knew where a deep, dark purple, although the holo did not show it.

“Gotta go now,” she said, reaching forward to shut off the holo.

“Bella, wait!” Theron stopped her, although he was not really sure himself how he was going to say what he wanted to say to her.

“Hm?”

“You’re not going to Darth Marr wearing… wearing _that_ , are you?” he struggled through the sentence.

Her big eyes looked at him with a mock innocence that he didn’t buy.

“You like it?” she said temptingly, running her hands over the skin which Theron knew would be warm and soft. He coughed and moved awkwardly on the bed.

“I do. I just think maybe-“

“Ha-ha! You should see your face, Theron,” she interrupted his futile attempt. “You know, I think I _will_ wear this to Darth Marr. I mean if you like it, he will as well, I reckon. I’ll give him a chance to stare at it as you have. And you can think about what happens if you leave a girl hanging after a booty call.” She didn’t say it angrily, or even with a disappointed tone in her voice. Bella said it as a challenge. She would enjoy the rest of her day knowing Theron would fret over who saw her in her half-naked outfit. He was not an outwardly jealous person, so achieving in making him feel irritated and jealous was her most savored victory.

“Bella-”

“Bye, bye, Theron,” she said with a wink and a grin, and disconnected the call.


	2. Been a long five years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I chose not to rewrite the in-game reunion, but rather give some explanations as to why it could have been so non-affectionate.

Bella’Roido in a skimpy outfit, winking cheekily at him as the holo-call cuts out. Five long years the image of it had been burned in his vision, occupied his nightmares and had been pushed away in drunken stupors. Five long years to live with the regret of not telling her to wait for him, so he could help her investigate the tip about the Emperor. Regret of not telling her he loved her. Regret of not being able to convince her to at least wear a more decent outfit. The thought of her frozen in carbonite wearing nothing more than a bandeau top and tight leather pants would be almost tantalizing, if it wasn’t for the all-consuming grief of having lost her.

As his shuttle entered the atmosphere of the planet Odessen, he was feeling slightly nervous at the thought of seeing her again. All he had was a quick note from Lana that they got her out, then a long period of no contact and the fear that he had lost her again and Lana as well. When he got the final message that they were on their way to Odessen, he should have felt ecstatic. But so much had happened to keep Bella away from him, that he would not believe it was really her until he saw her in the flesh. Until then, he would certainly feel anxious.

He saw her before she could see him. She was standing on the docking platform, staring at the forests and mountains surrounding the base; their green flora such a contrast with her red skin. She was wearing a casual jacket over baggy pants, with a large belt on which a familiar blaster was hung. Not the skimpy outfit that was burned in his memory. It was silly of him to expect it; it had been days since Lana got her out of the carbonite. Of course she would have found a moment to change clothes. It was odd to him though; he had gotten used to thinking of her in that particular top, slowly getting used to –but never accepting- that she had found her death in it.

It is strange how sometimes you can look forward to a moment so intensely, that when the moment arrives, it cannot do anything but fall short of your expectations. Theron had envisioned the reunion to his almost-unofficial-sort-of-kinda-lover-bed-partner-girlfriend so many times for five long years, that when he was entering the docks of Odessen and approaching her from behind, he could not think of anything appropriate to say.

“Like what you’ve done with the place,” he said, his tongue thick and his hands clammy.

She turned around instantly, purple eyes locking on his face, then running him up and down, apparently assessing every inch of him.

“Theron Shan.”

Her voice was softer, sadder than he remembered. Maybe it was because his last memory of her she had been challenging him. Maybe it was she had been slowly poisoned for five years. He could see the blue veins popping underneath the pale red skin, paler than it should be; the aftereffects of the illness which would have killed her.

“Hadn’t seen you in a while. Wasn’t sure you’d remember me.”

Five long years for him. Who knows how long it felt like for her. People generally don’t dream in carbonite; he looked it up, looked up everything to do with carbonite when he heard she had been captured. But her carbonization was done incorrectly; she had been half-awake for most of the time perhaps. Maybe she had dreamt. Maybe she had been conscious, alone and waiting. He shook his head to rid himself of these familiar thoughts. They had already occupied most of his idle moments for the past years.

“It’s great to see you again, Theron,” Bella said softly. Too softly; Theron’s heart stung a little seeing her downcast.

“Good. Wasn’t sure based on what Lana said you went through. What you’re going through.” His voice stumbled. She didn’t reply, but looked away from his face and at the green surroundings.

Theron swallowed. This wasn’t going very well. She was too closed and sad. He didn’t know how to deal with sad Bella. She was only ever sexy Bella, angry Bella, tempting Bella, daring Bella. The only time he had ever seen her completely serious and sad was after the destruction of Ziost. She went down there afterwards and came back looking shook. But he had been too caught up in his own failures and guilt to handle it then. She had dealt with it on her own. And so had he. The next time they met up they hadn’t talked about it at all.

Theron had dealt with his own sadness for five years. Actually, for his whole life. How could he ever learn to deal with sadness together?

“Been a long five years. Feels like everything has changed,” he said, to break the lingering silence between them.

“You got better-looking,” she said, turning back to him with a challenging grin that seemed out of place for the thoughts that had just been running through Theron’s head. It didn’t feel genuine. She was playing the role of her old self for moment, but her eyes told him a different story. At least she was trying to get to familiar territory between them, and he could respect that. But after five long years he could not remember what he used to say back to such a challenge.

“I don’t know about that, but hey. I’ll take it,” he said awkwardly.

Silence fell again. In the distance, a bird in the trees cawed.

Keep talking, Theron told himself. Give her the ship. It will cheer her up.

“Since I left the SIS, Lana’s brought me in to manage operations. But before we get into all the more or less official stuff, I’ve got something for you.”

“You found my people?” Her voice was suddenly hopeful, big doe eyes turning on him. He would have to disappoint her, despite the long, sleepless nights of cross-referencing every bit of data he could find.

“No luck so far,” he admitted. To be honest, it hadn’t had much priority in the last year or so. All attention had gone to the operation of rescuing their new Alliance Commander from certain death.

“But…”

He pressed the button on his remote watch to make the ship fly into the docking area. His eyes did not follow the ship, however, but were fixed on hers. He could see them light up for a few seconds, lovingly looking on the vessel that had been with her for so long. She opened her mouth to say something, but changed her mind before the sound could be heard.

In that moment, Theron felt like she had more love for the ship than for him. _I should kiss her_ , crossed his mind. Grab her arm, turn her around and kiss her. Hug her, at least. Feel her warm, red skin smoothly under his touch. He should tell her he missed her. But for all his expectations and his ideas, his feet were frozen to the ground and his tongue was unable to form any words related to that scary topic of love. So he reverted to the only topic he could always talk about: Work.

“When you have a moment, it’s time for that official stuff. I’ll be inside.”


	3. What were you thinking, recruiting a Hutt?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Bella is a bit of a diva, but you'll learn to love her in the end, I'm sure. (I know I did)

The upside of being one of the main leaders of the new Alliance was that he could pretty much pick up any job he thought was relevant, without the bureaucracy and politics between him and his goal. This kind of freedom he had never experienced inside the SIS, and if he had exercised it, he almost always got in trouble for it.

The downside of being one of the main leaders of the new Alliance was that his time was claimed by anyone and everyone. When Theron walked inside after the disastrous conversation with Bella, he wanted nothing more than to work on that algorithm he had left unfinished on the way here. It would give him a chance to drown the nerves of the previous conversation in his workload. Unfortunately, his new team of partners was waiting for him in the newly created war room. Relationships in the team were fresh, and he needed all his wits about him to get these diverse minds in the same direction.

He walked in on them having a fiery discussion about Arcann’s battle stations, each accusing the other of not being able to figure out a plan to tackle those immense technologically superior mini-planets. He joined in, trying to guide the conversation to come to a solution. Until he saw in the corner of his eye the red Twi’lek enter the room. She was walking leisurely, already quite at ease in the base they had tried to make a home out of, despite the immense pressure she must feel, and the ordeal she went through.

Half an hour’s reflection seemed to have made her less downcast. Her eyes were running over the people who had come with Theron on his ship. He could see the subtle twitch of irritation in her right lekku when she spotted Dr. Oggurobb. It was her tell. But Theron welcomed it today; at least if she was angry he would know how to handle her.

“Alright, we’ll table it for now. We have company.”

Silence fell in the room as the Commander entered the party around the console.

“Need some help?” The question in her voice was clearly not only aimed at the conversation that was halted. Her eyes were fixed on the recruits.

“With Arcann’s battle stations? We will – as soon as we understand them,” he replied, not wanting to draw her into the plan-making too early. He knew how volatile she could be and they couldn’t have her running off again without the necessary preparation. Next time she would meet Arcann, he doubted the man would be as merciful as five years ago.

“We’re building a healthy Alliance, but it’s not enough. The Core Worlds are still under the threat of Arcann’s considerable reach. I’ve assembled a team of specialists to help tackle the big questions, and find potential recruits.”

He continued to introduce the team that he had been working with for varying lengths of time. At the mention of Dr. Oggurobb, he could see Bella’s eyes narrow in suspicion.

“Republic’s greatest outlaw hero, basically,” Hylo skillfully raised the tension in the room.

“Hang on, who’s the Republic’s greatest outlaw hero?!” Bella immediately threw back, and drew her purple eyes away from Dr. Oggurobb to fix them on the smuggler.

“Told you, doctor Hutt. That’s five thousand credits,” Hylo chuckled. Theron could see Bella bite back a retort that was clearly aimed at Hylo Visz. It was comforting to realize how well he could still read her and how very little she seemed to have changed.

“So that’s the team,” he said quickly, to prevent any further bickering. “Any questions?”

Bella zipped up the jacket to protect against the chill of the cave and leaned backwards against the console.

“What do I have to do to find out what you’ve been up to all these years?”

He was pretty sure he changed color; not a desirable thing to do in front of the team he had assembled. After his initial failure, he did not want to have any personal conversation in front of these people to whom he had yet to prove himself. It was also not an entirely pleasurable topic for him to talk about the time he thought he had lost her forever. Memories of excessive day drinking, sleepless nights, and obsessive information gathering came to mind.

“We’ll get a chance to talk. Soon.”

Her eyes narrowed, her arms crossed, her face became obstinate. Theron tried to breathe calmly, but did not succeed.

“How about now?” her sharp voice cut through the room.

“O boy, I do not need to see this,” Hylo sniggered. Her smuggler senses had already made the situation clear enough for her.

“I sense a great deal of anger coming from the Commander,” Sana-Rae interjected with unwanted information gathered in the Force. Theron bit the inside of his cheek to keep his patience.

“I will need you later to run through the weapons stock, Theron,” Beywan Aygo excused himself professionally.

“I must create in my spiffy new laboratory,” Dr. Oggurobb grunted in his rumbling Hutt voice. Bella scowled and wrinkled her nose as he slithered past her. She seemed to shiver, despite having just closed her jacket.

When they had all left the war room, Bella stood up straight in front of Theron, standing a little bit closer than what was comfortable. He opened his mouth to make another attempt at realizing the conversation he had envisioned for her return, but she did not allow him to try.

“What were you thinking, recruiting a Hutt?” Her arms were crossed and her eyes spit purple electricity at him.

“We’re not in a position to be picky about who helps us. Dr. Oggurobb is very good at what he does,” Theron explained as calmly as possible, resisting the urge to grab her shoulders.

“And what is it that he does? A bit of engineering and running a slave network on the side?”

They had never talked about her past; they had been too busy having sex and defeating Revan and the Emperor. But Bella’s file was thick and Theron had read it all, of course. There was a detailed timeline of the different owners of the slave girl Bella’Roido, starting with the Hutt Jugann who had bought her of her home world Ryloth. He had always noticed she put the highest value on freedom and went out of her way to save slaves and kill slave owners. That the pain ran so deep to strike against the whole of one species when one so obviously different was in front of her, he had not counted on.

“Not all Hutts are slavers, you’ve got to give him a chance. You’ve worked with him before!”

“And I said I’d never work with him again,” she said decidedly. “Find a different smartass to do his work.”

“I won’t,” Theron said, firm now, and taking a small step towards her. He could sense the angry energy seeping off her. She didn’t seem to hear him.

“And what is that outlaw hero crap. I’ve never even seen the schutta before and she comes in claiming she’s the greatest _kriffing_ hero. You can replace her too.”

Theron could see her vanity had been hurt. He smiled a little bit to himself at such a familiar display of self-importance. She really hadn’t changed. Of course, the smile on his face only irritated her more and her face grew more and more fiery red out of anger.

“I won’t,” he repeated firmly. “And I’d much rather spend this time talking about you and… and us. Than wasting it to talk about something that is inevitable.”

“Don’t talk to me about time! I spent five _donking_ years in carbonite. You think I want to waste any time?! And don’t tell me what’s inevitable. Getting a massive headache from carbonite poisoning. That’s inevitable. Working with smartass, arrogant, stinky slugs: entirely avoidable. Because you may not have noticed, but there is this thing in life called _choice_ and we all have it. Like how you _chose_ not to come after me when I called, how I _chose_ to kill the Emperor anyway and how you _chose_ to ignore my wishes when you recruited the slug, while you know I would kill any one of those monsters on sight.”

During her shouting monologue she had stepped closer to him again, her hand lightly touching his chest through the red jacket. Theron could feel the heat from her hand through the fabric. She was always warmer than him, it was her Twi’lek blood. Especially when she was worked up.

“It was five years for me too, don’t act like you had it worse than everyone else!” his voice was rising now, as the long five years came back into his consciousness. “There’s also this thing called _duty_ , which means you sometimes have to do things you don’t want to. Like how it was my _duty_ to gather recruits while Lana thawed you out! We all have our parts to play.” The sting of the discussion he had with the Sith Lord on who would be the one to go to Zakuul and save their new Commander still lingered, and Theron shook his head to forget about it.

He wanted to lean forward and kiss her. She leaned forward as well. The heat seemed to attract them to do it. But he didn’t want their first kiss after those long years to be in anger. He had envisioned it to be peaceful and beautiful, not edgy and irritated. Unconsciously he stepped back a little bit, to prevent his urges from taking over.

She seemed to read him right away and turned away in a scowl.

“To hell with duty. Do whatever you want, but I _choose_ not to work with the worm. Figure it out.” And she stalked off, the clanging of her boots against the steel boards on the floor echoing through the large room long after she had left it.


	4. I never will

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy the feels.

Theron hesitated outside the Commander’s new quarters, carefully taking the time to decide if the loud clanking music echoing through the door meant it was a good or a bad time to interrupt. He was going to have to do it either way; Lana had specifically tasked him with inviting Bella Roido to the drinks she was organizing tonight. Having seen the Twi’lek’s downcast attitude as well, the former Sith had come up with a quick and easy solution to this problem. _If the hotshot smuggler feels down, pour alcohol in it_. Theron couldn’t argue with her logic. It had proven to work before.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm himself. The argument of earlier that day was still clear in his mind and he wondered how much of it had been genuine anger and how much could be due to exhaustion. Working with Bella before, he had gotten acquainted with how much she disliked being ordered around. Being chosen as Alliance Commander without her asking, getting a team shoved up under her nose of people she didn’t choose to work with, and then there was that little thing of a dead Emperor controlling her from within; everybody, including himself, had been chipping away at her freedom from the moment she had regained it after being released from carbonite.

He readied himself to make her acquainted with that particular insight he had nurtured over the afternoon, and pressed the button of the door.

The calling systems hadn’t been installed yet, so the door swished open immediately after pressing the call button, intensifying the volume of the music considerably. Bella was lounging on the sofa in the middle of the small room. Her legs were sprawled over the arm rest; she had exchanged the baggy pants for tight-fitting leggings which looked soft and comfortable. The pilot hat had been exchanged by a soft cotton hat which wrapped around her lekku, hiding half of the stripes from view. Only two short red tips of them were visible, as they rested easily on her side.

The sofa and a small table in front of it were the only pieces of furniture in the living room. They hadn’t had much time to install anything other than beds and seating arrangements. The room looked bare and unhomely, but Bella looked unbothered by it. The woman could feel at home anywhere – it was one of her many talents.

Upon him entering, she looked up, but didn’t immediately turn the music down. Only when he gestured towards his ears and mouthed “could you-“ did she tap on the datapad she was holding to turn the volume low enough for them to hear each other speak.

“I didn’t know the sound system was already installed,” Theron said, his ears ringing because of the sudden decrease in noise. “I thought you had a headache.”

She shrugged and carelessly threw the datapad aside. It bounced once on the soft sofa.

“I did it myself,” she replied. “And yes, I still do.”

Theron smiled. Between getting settled in the new base, getting to know everybody and dealing with the aftereffects of carbonite poisoning and surviving in the wild for a few days, Bella had found time and energy to do such a seemingly insignificant thing.

“I get it. Battle droid clanking metal is a top priority.”

“It’s _Yerk Metal_ , actually,” Bella said in an offended tone. “And I wouldn’t expect you to like it. You’re probably more of a space opera kind of guy.”

“You offend me,” he replied. “I can appreciate good _b'ssa nuuvu_.” As a guilty pleasure, he added to himself, and mostly when he was pining after her. It did the trick though; she sat up a little straighter and the left corner of her mouth curled up in a half-grin.

“How very hip of you, agent Shan. I stand corrected.”

He smiled back, happy with the ease of their conversation now compared to earlier in the day. Casually talking about music, it seemed as if five years was not such a long time after all.

“What are you working on?” he asked quickly, before she could ask him what he was doing here and break the easy flow they were riding on right now.

At his words she picked up the datapad again and looked at it unlovingly. “Just sorting through my inbox. Turns out five years’ absence is good for about 23,000 messages. Mostly people asking where I am or where their money’s at. I had just upgraded the capacity of my server before I left. Kinda wish I hadn’t now.”

Her finger scrolled quickly through the long list of unread titles, her purple eyes scanning through them at the same pace. Theron made use of the opportunity to take a few steps in her direction. Only then did he notice the old mug on the table, smelling suspiciously like something strong and alcoholic. When he looked back at her, her eyes were fixed on him in the intense manner he knew from her, but had gotten unused to in their long time apart.

“You want a drink?” she asked, without looking away from his face.

“Depends on what you’re drinking,” he said tentatively, all too familiar with her insane and sometimes questionable drinking habits.

“Good stuff, you’ll like it. I had a bottle of vintage stowed away on my ship. Wherever my ship has been, no one has managed to find it.” A subtle twitch of her left lekku as an unconscious sign of her boasting. “I’ll pour you a glass.” She got up from the sofa, almost knocking the datapad off, to find something to hold the liquid in the scarce possessions of the room.

Theron quickly reached to prevent the console from falling on the steel ground. His respect for technology would not allow such a thing to happen. Then he sat down on the sofa with a slight surprise at how soft it was. It must have come from her ship as well, because he didn’t remember any such pieces of furniture being brought into the base on Odessen.

His eyes followed her figure as she reached down into a big steel box which apparently contained living essentials. A plate clattered against the ground but did not break as she rummaged through the box’s inventory. She was kneeling on the ground, bent over the large box, stretching so far the jacket slid up and revealed a small opening of red back above her leggings. Theron’s body tingled, before he scolded himself for being such a teenager and quickly looked away.

Instead, the datapad he was still holding drew his attention. She had gotten so far as the messages dated a year back. Between the countless unread messages he could clearly see his own name popping up as one of the senders. _For when you wake up_ , the words of his own hand showed up in bright blue letters. It was waiting right above a message from Good Luck Casino that “your loyalty points have expired” and right below “schutta stop ignoring me” from an unknown sender.

His heart stopped for a mere half-second, enough to make him sweat despite the lack of heating in the room. The moment he had written that message was etched clearly in his mind. He had tried to write it so many times, deleted all his attempts, until finally in a drunken stupor he had accidently pressed the send button on one of his many unfinished drafts. _Of course_ he had tried to get it back, had even considered wiping her entire inbox in the process. But her account had been deactivated for inactivity, his connection was not secure, and Lana had come to pick him up soon after to work on the rescue plan, so he hadn’t had time to finish his work.

Four years of pain before he had managed to write that message. In the beginning he had tried to convince himself the memory of her would fade in time, that he would be able to get on with his life. That, in time, even the SIS would be able to feel like home again. But he had never been able to stop thinking about her, so when Lana had contacted him years after that disconnected holocall in the middle of the night, his feelings had come rushing back in force.

Embarrassment was replaced by urgency as he noticed Bella stood up, holding up a mug and exclaiming a happy “found it” over the background music. He could delete the message now and forget it had ever happened. He could hide it from her and preserve his cool, controlled spy look. She would never have to see the chaos that had taken hold of his mind when he thought she had died, only to find out she had been captured and held in a slowly-poisoning box of carbonite. His hesitating finger was on the message, when she suddenly stood next to the sofa, looking at him. In one hand she was holding a bottle of expensive whiskey, in the other a dusty, chipped mug.

“Cheers,” she said, her voice soft and her eyes fixed on the datapad that Theron was holding, as she handed him the mug. He took the drink from her and wordlessly handed her back the datapad, the message still blinking unforgivingly in sight. Putting the bottle on the table and taking her own mug, Bella sat down next to him. The heat radiating from her only made Theron sweat more profusely. He shifted uncomfortably as she looked at the message he had been touching. She slowly sipped from the mug before she spoke.

“You sent me a message.”

He didn’t reply and masked his silence by taking a large sip of the strong liquid, almost making him cough as it burned its way down his throat.

Her finger now hovered over the datapad, but she did not click his name. He wondered what she was waiting for. He also wondered if he could still make a break for it. But he could not come up with a good excuse – his trained spy mind came up blank.

“Read it to me,” she said, her manner softer again than he was used to when she was issuing a command. The datapad was dropped on his lap. Theron took another large sip of the whiskey.

“No,” he replied in a constricted voice.

The woman shifted to turn to him, folding her legs on the sofa. Her right knee was touching his side and burning an invisible spot through his shirt.

“Please?”

He shook his head again, unable to envision a more uncomfortable situation than him reading out loud the confessions he remembered to have written then, never really intending for her to read them.

“I feel like no one really talks to _me_.” Her voice was small and quiet. Theron immediately focused on her upon hearing the pain she was no longer trying to mask. Bella’s eyes were aimed at the mug she was still holding in her lap. The thought occurred to him that talking about her feelings was probably as difficult for her as it was for him.

“I’ve missed five years of my life and everybody seems to expect I will just pick up what’s left of it and move on. Nobody has asked me what I want and nobody seems to care. I don’t even know these people and none of them know me. But _you_ know me.”

One hand holding the mug, the other had been laid to rest on his thigh, another invisible spot burned through his clothes.

“I know it’s selfish. But I don’t want to _read_ about my old life on that stupid thing. Please… _talk_ to me.”

Maybe it was the fact she _admitted_ to being selfish that broke down the last bit of resistance and made him open the message on the pad. He placed it on the arm rest of the sofa, so he had one hand free to rest on the hand that was touching his thigh. His fingers curled around the warm, red skin, as he began to read his own jumbled words.

_“I’ve written this message twice now. Okay, more than twice. Kinda weird writing something that may never be read. Lana says you’re locked in carbonite, but alive. (Yeah, we’re in touch. Long story.) I like to think you’re having one crazy dream. And maybe I’m in it. But I don’t want to presume.”_

He looked sideways to the smuggler to judge how much he had presumed, but she did not look up and seemed to listen intently to his words. Theron took a deep breath and continued.

_“We never really declared what this –you and me- is… or was.”_

The next sentence made him pause and reconsider this whole arrangement for a second. But her hand squeezed his thigh, sending sparks through his leg up his body.

“Go on, read it as you wrote it,” she urged him, purple eyes finally looking at him. He was shocked to see tears pooling in her eyes, making the color stand out even more.

_“Have I mentioned I’m bad at relationships? Another reason I’m a workaholic.”_

Bella chuckled, but it ended in a sob. His heart clenching painfully, he let go of her hand to put his arm around her shoulders. She let him pull her towards him and shifted on the couch to rest her head against his shoulder.

_“I’m rambling. The point I’m trying to make is whatever is between us, I want you to know that I care about you. A lot. The whole galaxy has lost its mind. The thing that keeps me going is the knowledge that you’re out there, and we’re putting together a plan to rescue you. I might not be there… but I haven’t forgotten about you or our time together.”_

He looked down at the tears that were soundlessly falling from her smooth red cheeks onto his shirt.

_“I never will.”_


	5. Difficult to put a label on it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theron is afraid to call a spade a spade, so Bella cuts him a deal.

They sat silently on the sofa, with only the ugly Yerk Metal music playing in the background. Bella sniffled for a good while, while Theron wrapped his other arm around her as well, careful not to spill the expensive liquid in the mug on the couch. He felt like anything spoken out loud would break this intimate moment, so he kept his mouth shut and slowly rubbed his hand over her back in comfort.

Before long –and much too soon- Bella wiped a hand over cheek and sat up a little straighter. She looked directly at him, with that intense stare that was so typically hers. Her purple eyes looked a little brighter, though the whites were red from crying so much. Her face was close to Theron’s, so he could admire every vein standing out, every strand of color in the irises, and the little wrinkles in the red skin around her eyes which were not there in his memories.

“Bad at relationships, huh? So that’s what this is now? We have sex two times and we’re boyfriend and girlfriend?”

Theron chuckled nervously, his throat dry and his body still sweating against her – although she didn’t seem to mind.

“Difficult to put a label on _it_ when you weren’t there to talk me out of it.”

“Why would I want to talk you out of it?”

Her question took Theron aback. Did she mean she _wanted_ to be in a relationship with him? The whole label seemed so unsuitable for her style of living, he had always thought her to be against any sort of exclusivity in the field of romance, or at least in sex.

“Uh- I thought you wouldn’t want to be constrained by such a thing,” he stammered a little bit, aware of her face moving ever closer to his, and her left hand sliding over the shirt on his stomach.

“You think I only do hook-ups? What a charming picture to have of me. I was in a relationship with Corso for more than two years!”

She sat back and glared at him. Theron almost allowed himself a whimper when her warm hand left his stomach.

“Of course I don’t think that’s _all_ you do. It’s just… you are…” Theron struggled, feeling the conversation slipping away from him. He tried to put his hand on the knee closest to him, but she pushed it away.

“I’m _what_?!”

“Well… Did you flirt with anyone else while you were with Riggs?”

She snorted. “You can hardly blame a girl for a harmless flirt.”

“So yes. Did you sleep with anyone else?”

Bella opened her mouth to reply, then shut it again in doubt for a few seconds.

“Yes, I did, actually. Twice. And I kissed you, when he and I were… still together. The first time.”

That first kiss on Rishi… It felt so long ago. Did it feel long for her as well? She had kissed him long and deep, taking him places he hadn’t known before, despite not being inexperienced in the art of tongue twisting. The fact that Lana and Jakarra were waiting just outside the door did not seem to bother her at all. She had taken all the time she wanted for him.

“You’re a free spirit. And that’s okay,” he said, realizing he was treading dangerous territory.

“My spirit is anything but free at the moment, _FYI_ ,” she said, bringing Theron’s thoughts momentarily back to the precarious situation she was in, harboring an evil dark entity inside her. He wondered if the _spirit_ –for lack of a better word- could hear them now. And what he thought of such conversations. It was strangely uncomfortable to think of having someone else in the equation. And the conversation was already uncomfortable enough as it was.

Bella thought for a moment, her forehead wrinkled in a frown. “So what is it? You don't want to label this... _thing_ we have, because you expect me not to keep to it?”

“I don’t want to lose you again. But… I also don’t want to share.”

An image of her, scantily clad on a holo call, drifted into his mind’s eye. _Meeting up with a certain Darth. Unlike some he does call me._ White hot jealousy licked his throat, burning it more than the alcohol could have.

She looked thoughtful for a moment. The datapad pinged with a new message adding to the thousands still unread, but it was ignored by both of them.

“Okay then, _fine_. Let’s cut a deal.”

She leaned forward again, her face closer than it had been before. Theron swallowed audibly.

“A deal?”

“Yes,” she replied triumphantly at what she apparently thought was a very clever thought of herself. “I’ll prove to you that I can be loyal. That I can do an exclusive relationship. With you. I won’t look at anyone else, won’t touch anyone else and I won’t sleep with anyone until you ask me to be your girlfriend.”

“If it’s a deal you probably expect something in return.”

The sacrifice would be all on her part in this case, and he never knew her to make a bad bargain. She would certainly want something back for it.

“You’ll help me to do this Commander stuff. Help me get through those _kriffing_ reports. Keep Lana off my back. Tell Koth to shove his whining up his-”

“I would have done that anyway,” Theron cut her off. “I will do anything to keep things running smoothly here... Not necessarily that last bit.”

“Okay, a different deal then. You’ll tell me everything from now on. If you agree or disagree, if you like or dislike something. You’ll be my one trusted voice in here. Complete and utter honesty, no holding back.”

“ _That_ ,” he said, leaning forward to lightly brush his lips against hers, not going in for a full kiss, “I can do.”


End file.
